The Path We Need To Walk
by TiaKisu
Summary: Set during Infinity War. "His muscles strain against his skin, his good eye burning with the sting of tears. The storm wells up inside, fuelled by his loss, washing over the emptiness to cover it for as long as he needs it to."
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N**_ **:** A small warning at the top: I haven't been able to write anything for two years now. And when I sat down to just give it a try after having seen IW yesterday I didn't expect this to be the result. I hope it's a worthy part of the group therapy that's taking place here though. And if any of my amazing readers from other fandoms should stumble across this: please see the note on my profile. I have not given up on those universes yet, just life has been a little tough.

Hugs to everyone.  
TiaKisu

 _Disclaimer:_ I own nothing but my mistakes.

* * *

 **The path we need to walk**

Emptiness.

Below the anger and the hurt there is nothing else but that. Emptiness and immeasurable cold.

Thor smiles, he jokes, makes light of his pain - for a king must not let his sorrow be shown.

His voice is strong, his mind focused on what needs to be done for there is still a whole universe at stake.

Inside though he is broken. He broke one too many times.

He lost so much and yet somehow found a way to go on, to be the leader that his people needed.  
But there is no people left.

He saw his family be torn from him, one by one, but there was always _someone_ to hold on to.  
He is the only one now. And the thought itself is so unbearably heavy that he believes he cannot breathe anymore.

For once in his life Thor is truly alone. The Golden Child, the Sun of Asgard, is standing in the dark.  
And there is no moon to light the way.

 _He_ called himself Odinson. The words are loud as thunder in his head. _Loki Odinson_.

Thor knew in that moment what his little brother was going to do and it tore him apart to be forced to let it happen.  
To _watch_ it unfold, unable to help. Powerless, weak.

Just this one time he wanted him to run, to employ one of his many schemes and escape, leave Thor to whatever fate awaited him at the hands of the Mad Titan.

Just, only days before he himself had told him how he could be so much more. And Loki had decided to live up to that, to show him with his final words where he truly stood.

Whose kin he was.

How Thor wished he hadn't.

Loki was a god, something Thanos would never be. He was Mischief and Magic, the moon that danced in the dark. He was his little brother.

And he is _gone_.

Thanos took Loki from him and somewhere deep inside the terrible truth spreads like poison.

No resurrection this time.

No _resurrection_.

 _This time._

Thor's heart pounds violently in his chest. His hands clench into fists until his nails draw blood, and were he anywhere else he would scream until reality itself trembled with the same agony that threatens to suffocate him as finally he understands.

Thanos had brought him back to life. Thanos had taken his dead little brother, pulled him from the Void and stole him from Valhalla to turn him into his unwilling servant. A blood dept like that had to be paid, and Thor had never realised.

Thor had not known.

He had accused Loki, had not understood the pain in his too blue eyes. He had thought it simple traces of the Tesseract he wielded, had let himself be fooled by Loki's masquerade.

Loki, who always hid the workings of his heart – only to reveal them in disguise.

Odinson.

His _brother_.

His muscles strain against his skin, his good eye burning with the sting of tears. The storm wells up inside, fuelled by his loss, washing over the emptiness to cover it for as long as he needs it to.

He will stop the Mad Titan.

He is Thor, King of Asgard, Son of Odin and Frigga. Brother to Loki.

He will do them all proud and fight.

Holding on to the moonlight that still shines somewhere in his fractured heart, he will not allow the Titan to hurt anyone else.

He will lay down his life if that is the price he has to pay. At least, he will then be reunited with those whose echoes are always woven so deeply into his dreams.

Dreams that will show him one more soul to mourn now.

His heartbeat becomes stronger, the lightning running through his veins to coax him onward. To find a weapon that will help him focus and harness the power that comes from grief and despair.

 _Nidavellir_.

He knows where to go. The path lies clear before him and the King of Asgard embraces the choice the Norns have made for him.

.

He does not notice the single crystalline snowflake that clings to his armour where his heart lies underneath.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**_ So, I have no idea where this second chapter came from but I'm not going to question my muse when she does visit me after all this time. She even left the idea for a third and likely last part floating around in my head but seeing I have no idea whether I will get around to writing it down this story will stay marked as complete.

Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed and/or favourited the first chapter, especially Guest and Tgirl who I cannot respond to. I hope you'll enjoy this one, too.  
TiaKisu  
xxx

* * *

To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.  
\- _Thomas Campbell -_

* * *

He does not mean to, wants to stay awake, remain focused. He has a goal, a destination to reach, too many souls to avenge. But as the rabbit argues with the youngling over a device that Thor cannot care less about the world around him begins to grow hazy, stars and nebulas melting into each other and the soft darkness that is empty space.

He doesn't even notice when the tension leaves his body, isn't aware of how his good eye closes slowly. It just happens and neither of his two unlikely new companions has it in their heart to keep him from drifting off to much needed sleep, however little he might get.  
They steer their vessel through solar systems and past dying worlds, following the instructions that Thor gave them to reach a place so many thought was but a legend.

Thor, the king without his people. The god without a pantheon. The brother without a family.

His chest rises softly, his fingers twitch as if to reach for something.

The universe around him turns into a distant thought, time into a word sans meaning.

He breathes in.

The scent of fresh grass hits his nose, fills the air and weaves into the traces of a sunlit sea and silver morning dew. He feels the soft caress of a summer wind among the fields, hears the rustle in the trees and the sound of golden trumpets.

 _Asgard_.

In front, the light plays among the vibrant colours of uncounted flowers until it catches on a gemstone to capture his attention. He looks more closely and in between the stems it is a snake which glints faintly, her emerald head rising as he watches.

Without thinking he moves, slowly, like a moth drawn to a flame. One step forward. Another one. He is so close now but he dares not touch it.  
He feels as if it will vanish the moment that he tries and so he lingers - unable and unwilling to tear his gaze from the creature.

„I never understood your fascination with them."

The voice is quiet, resigned. Its mere sound tears through him and for a brief moment Thor doesn't even know why it hurts so much.

He frowns, but at last he returns, „I always thought they were a lot like you."

The voice laughs humourlessly. „Dangerous, poisonous, possibly deadly?"

He shakes his head, strangely disheartened by the assumption. „Misjudged and hard to understand, but beautiful in their own way."

There follows no response to that. Thor lets his hand fall. He feels so very tired.

„You should rest."

The voice is gentle now and somehow that is even worse.

„Am I not resting?" It's but a whisper Thor releases, but there is the faintest touch of frustration bleeding into it. „Am I not sleeping, for you would not be here if this were real."

The truth tastes bitter on his tongue but like the bright blue skies of Asgard it surrounds him. He knows that he is dreaming, the loss too raw and cursing through him with every beat of his too scarred heart.

„Ah, but it does not count if you only torment yourself with things gone by."

„Would you rather I just forgot?" All of a sudden he feels angry, his shoulders tensing as he stares at the ground. The snake glows golden, tilts her head and then she disappears. Perhaps that should surprise him, but it doesn't.

„Would that be so bad?"

There is a second of silence before something inside of Thor snaps.

„How dare you even ask me that," he grunts out, grief turning quickly into fury and isn't the latter less painful? „How dare you suggest that I should not remember? Do you truly think I would care so little? Do you think..."

His voice breaks, the fire in him burning up as quickly as it was ignited. He wants to speak, wants to shout at Loki but his throat is too tight and his lungs burn with a breath they won't release.

„What I think is of little importance right now." His little brother rebukes him easily and somewhere in his head Thor wonders why the habbit used to be annoying.  
„For once in your life this truly is about you. The rightful king of Asgard has to survive for there are still too many worlds that need protection."

There was a time when a statement such as this would have been ladden with resentment and with envy; now though there is nothing but the will to make the other see.

„Is that why you did it then?" The question sounds although Thor cannot remember his lips start moving. „You knew it would fail so why-"

Loki doesn't even let him finish. „Thanos aims to destroy half of all life. One brother or the other. It was any easy choice to make."

„But you should have let him take me!" To his own surprise the shout breaks free from Thor's chest – the sound of thunder in the quiet of a never-ending dawn. „You should have-"

„Allowed for you to die when I could prevent it?"

There is a challenge somewhere in his brother's voice and he cannot help but accept it.

„I am the older of us, I should have protected you. I should have _always_ protected you." Deep inside the gates break open, guilt burning through his veins and finally he turns.

The world stops moving.

„Did it never occur to you that maybe this was always meant to happen?" He is clad in his favourite robes, eyes green and mourning and Thor believes his legs must give out beneath him.

Loki simply continues.

„It's funny, the things that we learn when we reach the end of our path. I knew when I saw mine that yours had to continue." His right hand is in the air, slender fingers moving nimbly as if in play with something, and for the fraction of a second Thor believes to see the emerald snake wind itself about them.

„Maybe this was never about who of us would perish," his little brother muses quietly, „but about how the universe can persist."

„It would have had better chances with both of us in it." Thor attempts to argue but he knows this is besides the point.

Almost instantly Loki's lips curl in a sympathetic smile. „You have always been too forgiving, brother. I don't think there are many who would share the sentiment," he dejects softly but there is something grateful in his gaze and it has the Thunderer feel a spark of warmth where there had been nothing but cold ice since Thanos took from him what little he had left.

„What will happen now?" He asks albeit he doesn't want to hear the answer. It's a foolish part of him that poses the question, a part which hopes that perhaps he may just have the choice to stay here - let the universe fall to ashes if that means he can have his little brother back.

It is a selfish thought, and both of them know that in the end he would not go through with it even if the offer stood.

„Seeing this is your dream, I should expect you already know."

The cryptic reply confuses him at first, until he becomes aware of the distant, steady hum of engines.

The sunlight flickers, the golden towers in the distance lose their brilliance as shadows dance across his face and he can feel himself waking. He doesn't even try to fight the panic that rises somewhere in his heart and instantly he stumbles forward, tries desperately to hold on to what is already fading.

„Loki, no," he cries and does his voice always sound so broken? „Please."

His hands meet no resistance as they pass through raven hair but for just another glimpse in time the God of Mischief lingers.

„I'm sorry, Loki." There should have been so much to say, so many wrongs to right but as he stands at the edge of his own consciousness this is the one thing that he needs his brother to know above all else. "I'm sorry."

Loki starts, the memory of his own admission not forgotten, before he smiles - and it is genuine. A ghostly arm lifts, tendrils of golden seiðr embracing the one who hurts so deeply and even as his good eye opens against his will, the answer echoes in Thor's head to remain with him forever.

„Don't be."

He blinks.

Before him the rabbit checks the controls silently and almost it looks peaceful inside their little craft. He stretches, just a bit, watching the universe drift by. And somehow he feels less burdened.

Somehow he feels like, just maybe, he isn't quite so alone after all.

.

On his chest the snowflake glitters brightly as they fly past a newborn star.


End file.
